


Birdsong

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Play, Forced Bonding, Horror, M/M, Masturbation, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 15:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1748795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry goes to look for Snape’s body after the war, he encounters an apparition in the Forbidden Forest which instructs him to dispose of Snape’s memories.  Higher plans are set in motion, and four years later Harry and Severus find themselves irrevocably entwined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birdsong

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Snarry-a-Thon 2014, with thanks to Torino for her patience and encouragement.

  
** Birdsong **  


A letter from the Ministry was usually a bad sign.

A letter from the Ministry, signed by the Minister himself, demanding Severus attend an urgent meeting at the crack of dawn was an even worse sign.

Severus traced his fingers over the hurriedly applied wax on the envelope and read the letter again, hoping for a clue of some sort. After reading the elegant script several times and from a number of different angles, Severus was finally forced to admit defeat and brush down his robes in preparation for the next day.

That night he slept restlessly, his dreams filled with the sound of birdsong.

However bad Severus had expected the meeting with Shacklebolt to be, nothing prepared him for the casually imparted information that Harry Potter believed himself to be somehow _connected_ with Severus. Although Shacklebolt carefully avoided the word bond, Severus understood the hallmarks of Potter’s predicament and read between the lines easily enough.

The news did not please Severus.

More accurately, it left him absolutely furious. Had his wand not been commandeered by Shacklebolt, he would have cast something far more horrible than the wandless Stinging Hex which caught Potter squarely on his backside.

“He hit me with a Stinging Hex!”

“You should be grateful I didn’t use _Crucio_.”

“Now, now, Severus, there’s no need to start casting Unforgivables, the situation really isn’t that bad.”

“Not that _bad_?” Severus caught his wand in his hand after casting a wordless _Expelliarmus_. He put it back inside his robes and turned to face Kingsley with a snarl. “It’s an unmitigated disaster. I have spent the better part of my life keeping the boy safe and now you bring me news that _this_ is my reward? I will not accept it.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do, Snape. I told you he would react like this. He’s impossible, Kingsley.”

“Is that so?” Severus turned back to Potter and advanced towards him. “ _Impossible_?”

The combination of spells cast in his direction as he withdrew his wand from his robes caused Severus to fly back across the room, where he landed in a large armchair with an undignified thump.

“I don’t have time to listen to you squabble.” Shacklebolt folded his arms and glared. “We have considered every angle and run all possible diagnostic spells. I can assure you, there is a connection between you both.”

Contrite, Potter took a seat next to Severus. “Sorry, Kingsley. Old habits and all that.” He extended his hand to Severus, presumably intending for Severus to shake it.

“There are always lives at stake.” Severus pointedly ignored the proffered hand and focused on Shacklebolt. “Besides, I fail to see how you have surmised that Potter and I have any kind of attachment to one another. He clearly dislikes me as much as I dislike him.”

“That’s not strictly true.” Potter folded his arms, defensively. “It’s not like I hate you or anything.”

“Then clearly we are intended for one another.” Severus sneered in Potter’s general direction. “Not _hating_ me is hardly the same as craving my presence, Potter.”

Potter looked glum. “Unfortunately, it seems to be one and the same.”

Severus stared at Shacklebolt and jabbed his finger towards Potter. “I can assure you that no bond of any description exists between me and this insufferable little fool. I demand to know how you have surmised that such a situation could possibly exist.”

“If you would simply listen to Harry without getting angry–”

“-I have every right to be angry,” Severus interrupted. “Forgive me for having assumed, after infiltrating the Dark Lord’s inner circle and suffering a snake bite which nearly ripped my throat out, that I might be entitled to a little _peace_ in retirement.”

“Retirement, yes.” Shacklebolt looked sheepish and took a seat, drumming his fingers on his knee. “About that…”

Severus narrowed his eyes and glared at Shacklebolt, his voice dangerously quiet. “I assume you are not about to suggest I return to Hogwarts.”

“Not exactly.” Shacklebolt glanced at Potter, who winced as if anticipating further verbal onslaught. “Although we would like you to spend more time at the Ministry while we get to the bottom of this.”

“Out of the question,” Severus snapped. He folded his arms and glared at Potter. “I refuse.”

“Harry is my Head Auror. You are well aware of the pressure on the Ministry to be aligned with Harry and the next generation. I implore you, Severus. We would ensure there would be ample equipment at your disposal to allow you to continue your work while we establish the exact nature of the bond between you and Harry.”

“There _is_ no bond.” Severus seethed and fought the urge to throw another Stinging Hex. “It was a very deliberate choice to keep myself out of the public eye after the war. If the press discovers anything about this so-called connection, then I can wave goodbye to what little peace I have found. My life will be turned upside down, and for what? For something nobody seems to understand – something that might not even _exist_.”

Potter remained silent for once and Shacklebolt looked down at his hands. “It is not an ideal situation, I grant you. All we are asking is that you work with us.”

“And is there a reason why I cannot do so from the privacy of my own home?”

“Yes.” Shacklebolt looked at Potter. “There is.”

“Did you have any hand in this?” Severus pushed open the door to Minerva’s office and closed it behind him with a slam.

“Do come in, Severus.” Minerva tutted and placed down her quill. “Am I to take it that Kingsley has told you the news?”

“He has informed me that I am to give up my peace and quiet to once again save Potter from mortal danger.” Severus snorted and glared at Minerva, refusing to sit in the seat she offered. “Naturally, I refused.”

“Naturally.” Minerva sighed and gestured to the portrait of a sleeping Albus. “Perhaps a discussion with Albus would assist?”

“And allow myself to be further manipulated? I have spent years doing the bidding of Albus in the hopes of keeping Potter alive. It would not surprise me in the slightest if he had already predicted this and simply neglected to inform me.”

“To the contrary.” Minerva pursed her lips and shook her head. “I very much doubt even Albus could have foreseen any of this.”

“That is a matter of opinion!” Severus fought back the urge to start throwing hexes again and focused his anger on Minerva. “I have no desire to work for the Ministry, and I believe I have done more than enough for Potter as it is.”

“What is the alternative?” Minerva stood and folded her arms, contemplating Severus. “Harry is in grave danger. As you point out yourself, you have done all you can to keep him alive thus far. I find it difficult to believe you would give up now.”

“I simply want to be allowed to live my life without having to answer to anybody else,” Severus growled and pulled his robes around his body. “I did not ask for any of this.”

“And neither did Harry.” Minerva continued to appraise Severus. “Only last year he was preparing to marry Ginevra Weasley. Now I understand the relationship is quite finished. In large part, I expect, because of the changes he has been experiencing.”

“I have no interest in Potter’s romantic entanglements. There is no connection on my part.” Severus took a moment to collect himself. “I am quite sure Poppy will be able to find a resolution if the Ministry cannot. I fail to see why I must be called upon to assist.”

“It is a most unprecedented situation, Severus. I am not sure a resolution will be so easily found.”

“Then we must work around the clock to _find_ a solution.” Severus began to pace. The same trapped, caged feeling he had encountered on numerous occasions during the war returned with force. “I demand to know the details of the events that gave rise to this _unprecedented situation_. Shacklebolt seems convinced that I will drop everything to go and work for the Ministry due to a bond I have precious little information about. Is it simply expected to be enough that Potter’s life is at risk yet again?”

“Of course not.” Minerva shook her head and gestured to the seat once more. “Please.”

Severus sat in the offered seat with a growl of annoyance. “You must start from the beginning.”

“That, I cannot do.” Minerva sighed. “You must speak to Harry – he can tell you everything you wish to know.”

“Am I to be kept in the dark once more?” Severus resisted the urge to start pacing again. “I have asked _you_ to disclose the facts at hand. I have no desire to visit Potter for answers.”

“I’m afraid it’s the only way.” Minerva frowned, deep in thought. “There are things he showed us – Kingsley and me – that I believe you must see for yourself. Any second-hand information runs the risk of being woefully inadequate, not to mention misinterpreted.”

“Then there is little point in my being here.” Severus stood again, and pulled his robes close around his body. “If you do not intend to tell me your secrets.”

“There are no secrets.” Minerva sighed and glanced at the portrait of Albus. “Not everyone is inclined to offer you only half-truths, Severus. Please, speak with Harry.”

“It seems I have no other option,” Severus growled with annoyance.

“I fully understand your frustration. But you will do as Kingsley asks, nevertheless?”

Severus pressed his lips together in a tight line. “I have yet to consider my alternatives.”

“Very well.” Minerva looked concerned and made to say something else, but before she could speak Severus turned on his heel and left the office without once looking back.

The next day Severus found himself dealing with one disaster after the next. The letters from the Ministry turned into Howlers, and a small sparrow found its way into his home through the narrow Floo.

Severus disregarded his mail with an aggravated huff, and attempted to coax the bird down from its perch on his bookcase, where it cocked its head and watched his efforts in a manner seemingly intended to mock his plight.

Severus flicked his wand towards the bird, finally resorting to _Petrificus Totalus_ and depositing the bird outside, with a roughly cast _Finite_.

He watched the bird fly off into the distance, and returned to his house to settle in for the evening. No sooner had Severus opened the book he had recently purchased from Flourish and Blotts, than he was rudely interrupted by a knock on the door.

With a huff of annoyance, Severus yanked open the door to find a bedraggled-looking Potter standing in the rain, his clothes dripping rainwater into small puddles by his feet.

“I thought we should talk.”

“It’s seven o’clock, Potter. I intend to spend my evening reading and I have no desire to be disturbed.”

Potter shook his head and more droplets of water landed on the doormat. “I don’t think Kingsley explained properly. Professor McGonagall told me you visited Hogwarts after our meeting, and she thought you deserve to understand exactly what’s going on – so you can make a decision.”

“Shacklebolt made no effort to tell me _anything_ that might be of any use. I am, however, expected to drop all of my research projects and work in a place I have no desire to be because your life is in danger. It seems that morsel of information should be enough to satisfy my curiosity.”

“Then you don’t want to know any more?” Potter looked up, his glasses foggy.

Severus made an irritated sound. “Clearly I wish to know more. However, I am not inclined to spend the remainder of my evening discussing these matters when you smell as though you have consumed a significant amount of ale.” Severus sniffed at the air to make his point and enjoyed the way Potter flushed under his gaze.

“I’ll come back tomorrow, then?” Potter peered over Severus’ shoulder, looking curiously into the house.

“Not quite. I will come to see you. From here on we do things on _my_ terms, Potter”

Without another word, Severus closed the door.

He returned to his book and read well into the night, before settling into an uneasy sleep.

“What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty in the morning. I’m an early riser.” Severus smirked at Potter’s rumpled appearance and bleary eyes. He had made a point of hammering on Potter’s door as loudly as possible until Potter finally surfaced, cursing audibly.

“Of course you are.” Potter glared and pushed his glasses up properly, standing back from the door. “Well, you can give me a moment to shower. I’m not having this discussion in my pyjamas.”

“I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you I am currently turning my life upside down in the interests of saving your life.” Severus rolled his eyes but waved Potter away nevertheless.

While Potter showered, Severus took the opportunity to look around the small cottage that Potter seemed to be in the midst of refurbishing. A small desk towards the edge of the living room was covered with books and papers. Severus looked idly at the articles which Potter had clearly been perusing the previous night, judging from the way the candle had burned down to the base and the still-warm wax pooled in the holder.

>   
> **har•bin•ger**
> 
> **_noun_ **
> 
> anything that foreshadows a future event; omen; sign. 

Severus frowned and shifted to settle in the chair, which had been hurriedly pushed from the table. He studied some of the pictures in the heavy textbooks, a sense of trepidation causing his heart to beat more quickly as he recognised the themes Potter had been researching.

“That’s better, sorry about that.” Potter stopped in his tracks and ran a hand through his hair, which was still damp from the shower. “That’s my research.”

“I can see that.” Severus looked up from the papers and pressed his lips together, trying to gather his thoughts. “I sincerely hope this research does not have anything to do with my current predicament?”

“It has everything to do with it.” Potter drew a breath and gestured to a comfortable looking armchair. “Why don’t you take a seat? I suppose I should start from the beginning.”

“Yes.” Severus moved to the seat offered to him and appraised Potter. “I rather think you should.”

“I went back to the Shack after you died.” Potter wrung his hands in his lap and began to talk. “Your body wasn’t there, of course. So I went to look for you.”

“Of course you did.” Severus glared at Potter and muttered a curse under his breath. “I don’t suppose it would occur to you for one moment that I didn’t want to be found.”

“Not really.” Potter frowned at Severus. “It actually never occurred to me that you would be found alive – even then. I wanted to make sure your body didn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“I think the _wrong hands_ had more to worry about than stealing my bloodied form for some peculiar purpose of their own.”

“Are you going to let me tell you what happened or not?” Potter huffed with frustration and looked like he might be ready for another beer – or something stronger.

“Very well.” Severus gestured for Potter to continue.

“I followed the passage through to the Whomping Willow and made my way into the Forbidden Forest.” Potter looked up at Severus, his expression unreadable. “None of this, of course, is news to you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Severus sniffed dismissively and tried to ignore the way Potter studied him.

“You knew very well I was there and what I was doing.” Potter paused and sat back in his seat. “So tell me, Professor – what _did_ happen next?”

Severus was inclined to continue to pretend he had no idea what had happened that night, but he found he was no longer in the mood to play games.

“You began to talk to someone and I took the opportunity to leave.”

“Did you see who I was talking to?” Potter cast a quick _Accio_ to call over some notes, scribbling something down.

“No,” Severus admitted. “Nor was I close enough to hear the conversation.”

“I suppose I already knew that.” Potter laughed, without much humour. “If you had heard the conversation or seen who I was talking to, you would have been out there like a shot.”

“Why?” His curiosity piqued, Severus leaned forward in his seat.

“Because I was talking to my mum.”

A chill descended on the room and Severus tried to keep his tone even. “Impossible.”

“I thought so too, at first.”

Severus folded his arms. “I will not be taken for a fool. This is lunacy.”

“I’m not taking you for a fool. Blimey.” Potter dropped his head into his hands and drew a deep breath. “Just bloody well listen. I saw her. You have to believe me.”

Severus took the opportunity to scowl at Potter’s messy mop of hair. “Perhaps I would be more convinced if you could simply _show_ me?”

Potter looked up, his face pale. “Legilimency?”

“The very same.” Severus’ lips curled into a smile and he slid his wand through his fingers. “You expect me to give up the life I have built in order to entertain this ridiculous notion of a bond between us. The very least you can do is grant me full access to your memories of that evening.”

Potter opened his mouth, no doubt to protest, and then his expression crumpled into a look of defeat. “I’m not sure I would be able to tell you properly anyway – perhaps if you see it, you will be in a better position to help.”

“Very well.” Severus raised his hand.

“Wait!” Potter held up his hand, his face flooding with panic. “You’re not to rifle around.”

“I take it you have not yet adequately learned the art of Occlumency?” Severus rolled his eyes. “Relax, Potter. I have no interest in your inane thoughts.” While that was partially true, Severus couldn’t help but wonder what kind of thoughts Potter might have that would cause him to look quite so uneasy. With what he hoped was a sufficiently evil smirk, Severus flicked his wand, the spell as easy as it had ever been. “ _Legilimens._ ”

Severus moved deftly through the layers of Potter’s mind until he came upon the memory of the night after the Battle of Hogwarts. Potter’s grief and exhaustion invaded every strand of the memory, as the scene in the forest slowly came into focus.

“Is anybody there?”

The trees whispered in response and a figure, bathed in a white light, moved into the clearing.

“ _Lily_.” Severus murmured the name and it tripped off his tongue and skittered somewhere into the woodland. She didn’t pay him any heed and the glow around her softened into a gentle light which cast long shadows around the clearing.

“You did it?” Lily’s voice was warm and lyrical, like gentle birdsong in the still night. “My brave boy.”

“Mum?” Potter’s pain became laced with confusion and he stepped closer, his movements stilted. “Is it really you?”

“It’s always me.” Lily smiled and nodded her head, her movements much slower and more ethereal than Severus remembered. “I’m with you always. Every step of the way. My darling boy. _Harry_.”

“Mum?” Potter repeated. His voice trembled and Severus could tell he was crying. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

But Potter wanted to believe it, so desperately that Severus almost did too. He pushed Potter’s emotions to one side, fearing they would cloud his own judgment and he took in the gentle way Lily moved.

“Potter. It’s not her…”

Severus’ words were futile, of course. These were Potter’s memories and there was no altering the past. He simply had to watch the reunion for what it was and learn all he could.

“It’s really me.” Lily laughed and Severus frowned. The sound was both harmonious and alien. Lily’s boisterous fire and spirit were nowhere to be seen and this angelic creature was nothing like the Lily he had adored.

“ _Liar_ ,” Severus hissed, but once again, nobody reacted.

“I don’t have much time.” Lily spoke urgently. “You’re in grave danger. You must dispose of the memories given to you by Professor Snape.”

“Dispose of them?” Potter blinked and clenched his hand in his robes, pulling out a small phial which glinted silver in the moonlight. “Just pour them away?”

“ _No!_ ” Lily moved closer to Potter and lowered her voice, her eyes shining in the watery light from the moon. “You must drink them – it’s the only way they will never be found. They will become part of _your_ memories then and you can treasure them forever, without ever fearing they might fall into the wrong hands.”

“I’m not sure.” Potter looked doubtfully at the phial in his hand, and Lily – the creature – reached a hand to him.

“Trust me, Harry.” She placed her hand just above Potter’s arm and Severus saw everything that Potter did in that moment. He saw the _Prophet_ printing stories about the next Dark Lord, and suggestions that Potter and the Dark Lord had been intimately connected. He felt the numb desperation and the battering Potter’s body received from icy winds at the peak of Azkaban. He also noticed the gentle, unobtrusive manipulation of the most intricate layers of the mind, something only the most advanced Legilimens could accomplish.

He watched, dumbstruck and without liberty to shout out, as Potter tipped the phial back and drank.

“Did I really just do that?” Confused, Potter looked up from the phial and swayed on his feet.

“It was necessary.” Lily sighed. “It is done.”

“What’s done?” The fog began to lift from Potter’s mind and the creature moved further into the trees.

“ _Eram quod es, eris quod sum_.”

The woods darkened and Potter stumbled, catching himself on a nearby tree trunk. His brow furrowed and he searched the woods for the sign of his mum, but everything was still.

“What does that mean?” Potter pocketed the phial and whispered the words again, the trees closing in around him. “Eram quod es…something.”

“I was what you are, you will be what I am,” Severus replied, and only the wind through the trees in Potter’s memory answered him back.

“You have to understand, it wasn’t the first time I had seen her that night. She was there before the end – with my dad and Remus and Sirius, too.”

When Severus pulled back from Potter’s mind, he found Potter looking at him beseechingly. His usual calm, easy expression had been replaced with mild panic.

“You are aware it was not her, however many times you may have felt her presence before? That _creature_ was no more your mother than I am.”

“I know.” Potter looked defeated. “I suppose I wanted to believe it – more than anything.”

“And once again you allowed your emotions to rule your head.” Severus tucked his wand in his pocket, a chill descending on his body. Potter’s memories and the nature of the books on Potter’s desk had unsettled him and he found himself distinctly on edge.

“This isn’t my fault!” Potter’s voice raised and his cheeks flushed with anger. “I shouldn’t have done it, I know I shouldn’t. I don’t even know why I did.”

“The memories?” Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “That, at least, was not your fault.”

Potter seemed ready to counter Severus’ suggestion with another tirade, but the words stopped him in his tracks. “It wasn’t?”

“You were compelled to drink. I felt the manipulation of your mind when I viewed your memories. It would have taken a highly skilled Occlumens to resist such an attack.” Severus looked pointedly at Potter. “Which clearly, you are not.”

“Is that what caused this connection between us?”

“I have no idea.” Severus glared at Potter. “I have never heard of anybody _drinking_ memories extracted from another wizard’s mind. I also have little to go on when it comes to analysing the precise nature of our _connection_ , which seems exclusively one-sided. Nobody has seen fit to tell me what has prompted the notion that a connection between us even exists. The events in the forest occurred over four years ago. Why has this surfaced now?”

“I started seeing it again. All the time.” Potter looked around the room and, despite himself, Severus looked over his shoulder. The wall was blank save for a picture of Potter and Weasley looking self-satisfied and dressed in ridiculous outfits, holding a trophy aloft.

“The image of your mother?”

“Not her – not since the night in the forest. About a year ago I started to see my dad. Sometimes I saw Sirius. Colin Creevey once, too, when I was shopping for Christmas gifts for Molly and Arthur.” Potter winced. “It sounds like I’m mad, I bet.”

“Indeed.” Severus huffed. “We are all haunted by images of our past, Potter – I fail to see what this has to do with me.”

“Then there were other people. People I didn’t recognise.” Potter blinked. “Your dad. He wasn’t that nice, was he?”

“What do you know of my father?” Severus’ hand twitched and he curled his fingers around his wand, quite prepared to bring an end to the conversation with a hastily cast _Silencio_.

“I know that he used to get angry. I know he used to drink too much. He doesn’t look much like you; he’s stockier, but he has black hair, too – just the same – like ink.”

“You are losing your mind.” Severus spoke in a low, dangerous tone and he narrowed his eyes at Potter. “How dare you speak of my father as if you understand anything about me – or him, for that matter?”

“There were others, too,” Potter pressed on. “That teacher who was killed during the war.”

“Charity Burbage.” The name slipped out before Severus could claw it back and Potter nodded.

“Yes. She told me you watched her die – she was crying when I saw her – she told me it hurt.”

“Enough!” Bile rose in Severus’ throat and he clutched his wand more tightly. “I watched many people die, Potter. That was part of my quest to keep you _safe_ \- I will not be reminded of those events now.”

“But that’s just it.” Potter raked his hand through his hair, which was already dishevelled. “It started to look like people that mattered to _you_.” Potter paused and looked down. “That’s when I started to get sick.”

“Sick?” Severus relaxed his grip on his wand and snorted. “A common cold and an overactive imagination does not equate to a life-threatening illness, Potter.”

“It was more than that.” Potter swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing on his throat. “I lost weight and felt disconnected from everything. My body _hurt_. Everywhere. I had to let Kingsley know I couldn’t work and he came to see me in the end. He asked me to show him everything I could. They ran some tests and didn’t really tell me much while they were doing it. The next thing I knew he was sending you an owl and asking you to come to the Ministry.”

“You hardly seem to be at death’s door now.” Severus glared at Potter, who looked rather well, all things considered. A little slimmer than usual, perhaps, but his cheeks had a ruddy glow and his hair was thick and healthy.

“There’s a reason for that.” Potter met Severus’ eyes and flushed, the heat in his cheeks implying Severus’ proximity might have something to do with his healthier appearance. “I know it’s ridiculous.”

“It is _insane_.” Severus crossed his legs and contemplated Potter. “You realise that?”

“I know.” Potter stood and turned his back on Severus, his shoulders tense. “I need a drink.”

“It’s barely eight o’clock in the morning.” Severus snorted and wondered if his lot in life was to look after a drunken Potter.

“I meant tea. Although you don’t half drive me to the Firewhisky.” Potter sighed and turned his head to look at Severus. “Tea and toast. Want any?”

“If you insist.” Severus cursed under his breath when his stomach grumbled loudly at his reticence. Potter chuckled and the earlier tension lifted somewhat.

“I’ll do enough for two.”

Potter closed the door behind him and Severus returned to the small desk filled with papers and began to wade through the messy piles of notes.

Severus ate his fill of the toast, which was – despite his complaints – delicious. The bread was clearly homemade and Potter cut thick, generous slices, which he served with lashings of butter which melted into the bread. The tea was strong and just sweet enough with a small spoon of sugar.

They ate in silence until their plates were clean, the welcome food making Severus feel almost content for the first time since receiving Shacklebolt’s owl. As the warm comfort of the shared breakfast passed, however, he found his poor mood returning and he dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

“I have a suggestion.”

“Oh?” Potter eyed Severus with trepidation.

“I have no desire to work for the Ministry or with the Ministry. If this bond exists at all – which I highly doubt – _you_ should be the one who makes the sacrifices. I have a small room in Spinner’s End where you may reside for a brief period only. You can assist with my research during the day and in the evening you will conduct sufficient research into this connection to make it _go away_.”

“But what about my job?”

“What about _my_ job? My life?” Severus sneered at Potter and relished the sight of him flinching momentarily. “I fail to see why I should make the compromises.”

“I’ll speak to Kingsley.” Defeated, Potter stood and waved towards the door. “I guess we’re done for now.”

“Yes, Potter.” Severus stood and made for the door. “We are.”

Severus found himself dealing with more irate letters from the Ministry, insinuating his role in taking the Head Auror out of the field would not be forgotten. Severus ignored the owls and continued to busy himself readying the small second room at Spinner’s End for Potter.

Eventually, the Ministry seemed to accept that they could have Potter as he was – which apparently wasn’t half the Potter he used to be – or they could allow him to go on extended leave in the hope that Severus would be able to return him as good as new.

Severus found it all distasteful. As much as he appreciated Potter’s importance to the political regime in the post-war world, a number of the letters seemed to imply both he and Potter were commodities, expected to be at the beck and call of the Ministry. He had no great desire to share his private space with Potter, but the alternative was far less palatable and the tone of the letters reinforced his decision.

On a stormy Thursday, when the night and day seemed to merge together into one long, twenty-four-hour period, Potter arrived on his doorstep. He clutched a small, battered trunk and carried about him the air of a man condemned to life in Azkaban.

“Potter.”

“Professor.”

“Severus will do.” Severus stepped back from the door and let Potter inside. It had been three days since their last meeting and Potter wore the same haunted look Severus had noticed during their first meeting at the Ministry.

“Where should I leave my trunk?”

“Upstairs, the first room on the left.” Severus watched Potter trudge upstairs and listened while the door clicked open and closed again. There was a thud, a long pause, and then Potter padded downstairs in his socks, having discarded his shoes upstairs.

“Thanks, it looks great.” Potter forced a smile and raked a hand through his hair. “Is the bathroom the one...?”

“Next to the room. There is only one,” Severus confirmed.

“I don’t tend to hog the shower. A quick in and out,” Potter offered, as if Severus was the kind to primp and preen for hours.

“I am sure we will manage.” Severus nudged Potter forwards. “You should acquaint yourself with the laboratory. I expect you to be ready for work at eight o’clock, sharp. You have your own key and you may come and go as you please, provided you are ready to work in the morning. I do _not_ expect houseguests. If you wish to spend time with your friends or your paramours, you may do so elsewhere.”

Potter blinked. “Paramours?”

“Ginevra Weasley, or whatever witch has the misfortune of being on the receiving end of your romantic platitudes.”

“Oh.” Potter shrugged. “There’s not a lot of that going on at the moment and I’m not one for one-night stands, if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, I’m not all that keen on witches.”

“I had understood you were to be married before this situation came to light.” Severus flicked his wand to cast a little light in the hallway. The move caused Potter to startle, and the dim light emphasised his hollow cheeks. He neatly avoided the laboratory and made straight for the kitchen, opening the cupboards one at a time.

“I wasn’t really the best company for Gin when all of this stuff started up.” After opening the final door and closing it, Potter began to poke about in the cupboards. “But that’s not why it all fell apart. I thought someone might have mentioned.”

“Minerva insinuated the discovery of a connection of sorts might have been the driving factor.” Severus watched Potter rummage for a moment before letting out a huff of annoyance. “Is there something in particular you are looking for?”

“Tea and milk. Sugar too, if you have it.” Potter turned and followed the direction of Severus’ hand to the cupboard immediately above the kettle. “Would you like a cup?”

“Thank you, yes.” Severus pressed his lips together and counted to ten as Potter made himself at home, and pushed again. “Somebody might have mentioned _what_?”

“That I’m gay.” Potter dropped a couple of teabags into two chipped mugs and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Not that it matters.”

“And this need for proximity?” Severus found his heart began to beat more quickly and he swallowed thickly. “Have you been vague on the details?”

“Vague?” Potter pushed a mug towards Severus and furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Severus pressed his lips together in a tight line. “How close do we need to be?”

“Not that close!” Horrified, Potter sloshed his tea over the mug and with a muttered curse, cleaned it with an easy flick of his wand. “I think I would have mentioned.”

Severus couldn’t bring himself to speak, and took a drink of his scalding tea to steady himself.

He refused to acknowledge the flicker of disappointment that Potter’s response elicited.

When Potter made his way to the laboratory the next morning, his hair was wet and dark circles framed his eyes.

“You should familiarise yourself with the ingredients.” Severus pointedly ignored Potter’s appearance and gestured to the multiple jars lining the tightly knit shelves. “I will expect you to find me ingredients on short notice as and when I need them. Once you have done so, I believe there are some ingredients you can start preparing.”

“How am I meant to remember all of these?” Potter looked up to the ceiling where the shelves finally stopped, and fingered one of the small bottles. “That’s not fair.”

“Nevertheless, it is your task for the day.” Severus began to add various ingredients to his potion and pressed his finger to his lips. “Now be quiet. I prefer to work in silence.”

The potion was an easy one to make, and Severus agreed to brew it despite its simplicity because it generated a handsome income from young witches and wizards seeking cosmetic enhancement.

He watched Potter carefully while he worked, and took in the rounded, familiar hand which Potter used to formulate a diagram, identifying the potions on the shelves with painstaking accuracy. When Potter looked sufficiently frazzled and almost toppled off one of the ladders which slid along the shelves, Severus finally relented.

“Have you slept at all, Potter?”

“Slept?” Potter climbed down the ladder and shuffled in place as if he didn’t really know what sleep was anymore. “It was comfortable – the room, I mean.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Severus cast a Stasis Charm over his potion and gestured to the stairs. “Up. I suggest we break for lunch.”

With a sigh of relief, Potter made his way upstairs and perched on the edge of one of the chairs at the kitchen table, watching Severus slice into some fresh bread and cheese.

“You can’t see him at all, can you?”

“See who?” Severus offered a plate of food to Potter, who took it gladly.

“Remus.”

Severus paused before taking a bite of his sandwich, a strange flash of heat rushing through his veins. “Lupin is dead.”

“I’m aware of that, thanks.” Potter rolled his eyes and began to munch on his sandwich. When he spoke again, he swallowed the generous bite he had taken from his food and smiled as if Severus had offered him caviar and champagne. “It’s good.”

“You mentioned Lupin.” Severus tried not to sound too eager and fought to keep his expression stony.

“He was in the laboratory.” Potter took another large bite of his sandwich and when he spoke, small crumbs covered the plate. “He said you couldn’t see him. Did you have a thing with him, Professor? It seemed that way, from what he said. Perhaps we have something in common after all, liking blokes.”

“I can assure you we have nothing in common, Potter.” A brief flash of pleasure warmed Severus from his fingers to his toes at the mention of Remus. He remembered stolen moments and heated kisses and one hot, long summer just after the world changed. “What precisely did the wolf have to say?”

“Just that you miss him sometimes.” Potter shrugged and studied his sandwich. “That it could have been different, maybe – if it hadn’t been for the war, and Tonks and things.”

“I see.” Severus closed his eyes and remembered Lily – as Potter had seen her – surrounded by a soft white glow and speaking out of character, and forced himself to remember that Potter’s sightings were not real. “Did he tell you anything else?”

“Yes.” Potter nodded. “It was a bit odd. He told me if you were ever in trouble I should look for the red jar behind your desk. He said that would help.”

“Indeed.” Severus’ body tensed and he chewed slowly, contemplating Potter. “That jar contains aconite. You may remember the significance from your studies, although I highly doubt it. Aconite is used in Wolfsbane but in its purest form – as contained in that jar – it is highly toxic.”

“So it wouldn’t help?” Potter deflated and dropped his head into his hands. “Of course it wouldn’t. No more than drinking your memories helped me.”

“Quite.” The idea of Potter conversing silently with a ghost of sorts in his laboratory left Severus unsettled. “You are to tell me whenever one of these _apparitions_ appears. Whatever time of the day or night. This is why you have not slept, I assume?”

“Partly.” Potter nodded. “That and the snoring from the other room.”

Severus glared at Potter and stood. “For that, you can chop some flobberworms this afternoon.”

“Bloody hell!” With a groan, Potter hauled himself up from his seat and wandered to the door to the laboratory. Despite his groan of resignation, Potter flashed Severus a quick grin and appeared almost content. “Right then, Professor. Lead the way.”

Over the next week, Severus settled into as comfortable routine as was possible with Potter underfoot. Although he had his reservations about Potter’s presence when he brewed, Severus found he wanted to keep Potter nearby to ensure he was not taking advice from the many apparitions he seemed to encounter on a daily basis.

At night, they would pore over books in silence, looking for any precedent which might assist with understanding the bond. On one such night, after studying a complex and musty text, Severus closed his book and opened a bottle of Firewhisky.

“Are we done?” Potter looked up eagerly and Severus nodded.

“We are.” He poured a small glass of the expensive scotch and rolled his eyes when Potter gave him an imploring look. “I’m afraid I don’t stock Butterbeer.”

“I quite like Firewhisky, actually.”

Severus snorted but poured Potter a small measure nevertheless. “Do you intend to go out at all during your stay?”

“Do you want me to?” Confused, Potter took a sip of the whisky and hummed with contentment.

“It matters not one way or the other. I am simply surprised your friends haven’t attempted to encroach on my solitude.”

“I told them they couldn’t come.” Potter frowned. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed – but I did not tell you that you were not at liberty to see them if you wished. There is no reason you cannot come and go as you please.” Severus took a sip of his drink.

“Thanks, but I really just want to get to the bottom of the stuff with the memories first.” The way Potter looked away made Severus pause.

“You have not left the house since you arrived. I would have thought you would at least want to fly.”

“Maybe tomorrow.” Potter smiled, weakly, and the usual fire in his eyes flickered and died.

“You are not a prisoner.” Severus studied Potter carefully. “You are aware of that, I hope?”

Potter shook his head and gave Severus another rueful smile. “In some ways, I think I probably am.”

Severus perused Potter and took in his messy shock of hair and the way his baggy clothes hung from his slim frame. He looked pale and tired, and his lips had chapped at the corners.

“There is precious little point in my conducting research when you are evasive with the truth.”

“I’m not being evasive.” Potter looked away and clasped his hands in his lap. “I just don’t think I _can_ leave. It’s harder when you’re not around. I noticed it the other day when you left to get ingredients from Knockturn. It’s like there’s more of them, then.”

“What do they say?”

“They ask me to come with them.” Potter frowned. “They keep repeating that phrase in Latin. And sometimes they sing – not with words. It’s like birdsong.”

Severus arched his eyebrow and reached for one of his books. He flicked through the pages to a chapter he recalled reading when he was half asleep. He reached the part he was looking for and followed the handwritten script with his finger, humming thoughtfully.

“I believe we may have something.”

“Can I see?” Potter shifted from the sofa and pulled a chair up next to Severus. His slim frame pressed close to Severus, sending an unexpected rush of heat through his body. He itched to reach for Potter to pull him closer, quelling his urges and dismissing them as a factor of years without physical intimacy or a feature of the connection Potter had forged between them.

“The _Alitis Daemonia_.” Severus pointed to a picture of a woman in white, with wings protruding from her back. “Winged demons. They are malevolent shape shifters.”

“They were human once.” Potter leaned closer and Severus’ breathing hitched at his proximity. “They were revered by wizards and witches, and used to work for the Wizarding Counsel. That’s like the old Ministry isn’t it?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Severus turned the page. “They had a spectacular fall from grace when their malevolent intent was revealed, and were banished to the Forbidden Forest, bound by magic. They were believed to have used their powers to turn into birds, and there hasn’t been a single sighting of any such creature for many hundreds of years.”

“How would anyone know?” Potter looked up at Severus and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “If they turned into birds, they might always have been there. No one would notice. I heard birds singing, you know – just after the battle and when I was in the forest. I just thought it was part of the celebrations. Everything was celebrating that night.”

“Not everything.” Severus thought of the strange little sparrow that had landed in his living room, watching him with coal black eyes. “If you have seen them outside of the forest, the magical bonds holding them there must have been disturbed by the magic at work that evening. Now they have been released, they seem to have you in their sights.”

“The Latin – I was what you are, you will be what I am.” Potter settled back in his chair, allowing Severus to breathe again. “I’m like they used to be – in a way. Does that mean I’m going to become like that?” Potter looked horrified.

“Not if I can help it.” Severus closed the book and, when he strained, he could hear the sound of birdsong, despite the time of day. “You must tell me everything that happens when I am not around.”

“I will.” Potter breathed out, his face etched with worry. “I don’t much fancy going anywhere at the moment. I don’t understand why they would do this.”

“That is what we must work to find out.” Severus paused and then drained his Firewhisky. “You are relieved from your duties tomorrow. You may have whatever friends round you wish, provided you keep to sensible hours and do _not_ disturb me while I’m working.”

Potter stared, his worried expression replaced with a broad smile. “I can?”

“Yes, you can.” Severus watched Potter enthusiastically start planning his day and, despite himself, he found his lips quirking into a small smile.

Potter’s first visit with his friends went sufficiently well to prompt Severus to encourage him to make it a weekly occurrence. They kept the noise to a minimum and, when Severus came up from his work, the only trace of people having visited his home was the depletion in his stock of chocolate biscuits. Potter’s cheeks had a healthy glow and his eyes shone with mirth and happiness and he looked far more like the Potter of old.

“Your visit went well, I take it?” Severus placed a bowl of hot soup down next to Potter and tucked into his own food with relish.

“Brilliant, thanks.” Potter laughed, the memory of a past joke or conversation returning to him. “I think Molly and Arthur might come next week. They asked if you would be around.”

“Is that so?” Severus dipped his bread into the soup. “I suppose I could make an exception. Do they have any thoughts on your predicament?”

“Not really.” Potter’s smile faltered and he paused in his eating. “They don’t know the full details. I see Fred sometimes and I don’t think telling them that would help anything.”

“No.” Severus pondered that for a moment and looked around the room. “Is there anybody here now?”

“Not anymore.” Potter tucked into his soup with fervour again. “They don’t come as much when you’re around.”

“Do you have any idea why that might be?” Severus watched Potter carefully.

“They say it’s not time.”

Potter continued to eat and a chill settled over the room, while Severus returned to his food deep in thought.

“I believe it is your power that makes you a target.”

Severus stirred his potion, counting clockwise and counter-clockwise turns, before letting it brew. Potter sat at a small desk to the back of the laboratory, continuing to draw up his complex chart labelling all of the potions which surrounded the work space.

“I’m hardly powerful.” Potter looked up, and rolled his eyes. “Not nearly a match for you.”

“Of course not.” Severus let out a derisory snort. “Nevertheless, you have political power and influence. Your name was called from the rooftops after the war – the songs were all about _you_. Besides, you say the visions began again last year?”

“Yes.” Potter’s brow furrowed. “What’s the significance of that?”

“It was the year in which you were appointed to head the Auror corps, I believe.” Severus peered at his potion and added another handful of ingredients, stirring it slowly and looking up again when he was satisfied with the light grey sheen the liquid took on. “I imagine they waited for you to become elevated to a position which wielded some political significance, in an attempt to regain the position of power they once enjoyed.”

“I don’t understand why they would bind us together.” Potter pushed his book away and studied Severus. “Why am I here at all?”

“I imagine they felt that isolating you would make you an easier target.” Severus cast a Stasis Charm over the potion and gestured that Potter should follow him upstairs. “If we are correct that the creatures took the form of birds, there are many things they could have seen from the treetops over the forest. They could have communicated with the owls. I have no doubt they would have expected me to abandon you and then would have used the bond to take advantage of you when you became severely weakened as a result of the connection between us.”

“So their plan hasn’t worked.” Potter gestured for Severus to sit and busied himself in the kitchen, making a lunch of hearty stew from the previous night and thick hunks of bread. “I’m not sick, because you didn’t abandon me.”

“No.” Severus watched the easy way Potter worked in the kitchen and felt the stirrings of affection which had blighted him during his last few weeks with Potter. He enjoyed the companionship far more than he would ever admit, and Potter’s laughter and gentle teasing both enraged and thrilled him in equal measure. He found himself watching Potter far more than he should, taking in the way he moved with a natural grace and following the lines of his lean body and lingering where he had no business looking. “I did not abandon you.”

“Why?” Potter caught a stray piece of stew on his spoon and chewed it hungrily. “I still don’t know why you let me come here.”

“Because no matter how much of a bastard I like you to think I am, it would have been a foolish waste of my years keeping you _out_ of harm to then sit back and watch you die.”

“Do you think it would have come to that?”

Severus remembered Potter’s slim, haunted look and nodded. “Undoubtedly.”

They waved off Molly and Arthur with a series of hugs and handshakes, and finally settled on the sofa.

“Blimey.” Potter looked at Severus and began to laugh, his eyes shining with mirth. “Did you notice the way they asked about our living arrangements?”

“It was as subtle as an Unforgivable.” Severus smirked and watched Potter laugh. “I believe they thought we might have become more _intimate_ as a result of our circumstances.”

“No doubt about that.” Potter caught Severus’ gaze and his laugh faltered. “Can you tell me about Remus?”

“What do you wish to know?”

“Were you in love with him?” Potter held his breath and relaxed when Severus shook his head.

“Perhaps for a time I believed I was. We were together for a brief period after your mother and father were killed. We were not terribly good for one another.”

“You were in love with my mum, though?”

“I loved Lily. I wouldn’t say I was _in_ love with her, although I fancied myself to be when I was younger. I doubt we would have been any sort of match. I am not as partial to witches as I thought I was at the time.”

“I see.” Potter tapped his finger to his lips, thinking. The motion was far too distracting for Severus’ liking.

“You have more questions?” Amused, Severus watched Potter think, enjoying the way his brow furrowed in concentration.

“No more questions.” Potter shook his head and tucked his feet up beneath him, looking calm and relaxed. “I’ve been thinking about this bond.”

“Oh?” Severus held his breath, half hoping that Potter might be seeking more intimacy.

“Your memories are my memories now. Can’t we just extract them in the usual way? Would that do anything?”

“I’m not sure.” Severus frowned and tried not to let his disappointment show. “Despite all of my research on the powers attached to memories, I have not come across anything which deals with this situation. I would be reluctant to try something of that nature without fully understanding the possible consequences.”

“If we can’t think of anything else, perhaps it’s worth a try.” Potter yawned and stood, stretching. The motion revealed a patch of skin underneath his t-shirt and Severus tried not to stare. He itched to reach out and feel Potter’s skin against his fingers, but he resisted. He clenched his hands into fists and tore his gaze away from Potter.

“You are retiring for the evening?”

“Yep. I’m knackered.” Potter looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he clearly decided against it. “Night, then.”

Severus watched Potter exit the room and settled back in the sofa.

“Goodnight.”

As the days went by, Severus found himself far less able to concentrate on anything other than _Potter_. He sometimes told himself it was the bond at work, but he was quite sure the connection was as one-sided as it had always been and he believed Potter’s insistence that there was no sexual element to the attachment.

The thought didn’t give him a great deal of pleasure. He had hoped to take some time away from Potter but the risk of doing so was not worth it, even to ensure his own comfort. They moved together as one at times, with Potter pre-empting Severus’ wish for food or piping hot mugs of tea. They fell into an easy pattern which far surpassed Severus’ wildest of imaginings when he had first suggested Potter come to Spinner’s End.

On occasion, Potter would brush against Severus and his heart would pound in his chest. In those moments he would resist the urge to pull Potter back against his chest and murmur a litany of filthy desires in his ear.

It was getting increasingly difficult, but still Severus resisted.

“Did you hear them this morning?” Freshly washed and dressed, Potter came into the kitchen with a yawn.

Severus looked up, his eyebrow arched. “I don’t believe so.”

“The birds. Loads of them at the bedroom window.”

“Indeed.” Severus pursed his lips and watched Potter help himself to coffee. “And have you seen any more apparitions?”

“One or two.” Potter seemed reluctant to talk about it now, as if just doing so made the situation more real. “It’s not really anyone I know, anymore. I think they’re starting to take their proper form.”

“I see.” Severus’ mind raced as he tried to decipher what that might mean. “I expect that means the threat is greater. You must be vigilant – resist any desire to do anything they tell you. I believe we must begin to practice Occlumency again. At least we can protect your mind from manipulation.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Potter winced. “We’re getting on alright now. We don’t have the best track record as teacher and student.”

“We must do _something_!” Severus slammed his fist on the table, his anger fuelling him. “We cannot continue to live like this.”

“I see.” Potter stopped what he was doing and he hung his head. “I understand. I knew it would come to this eventually.”

Severus stared at Potter and let out a low growl, advancing towards him and gripping his shirt, hauling him close. “You idiotic little _fool_. I am not suggesting you leave, I am simply saying that this cannot continue – this false domesticity with you here under duress and those _creatures_ trying to tempt you to join their ranks. We are war veterans – powerful wizards who cannot allow ourselves to be defeated.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Potter’s eyes flashed with fire and he raised his palms to push Severus back, his hands tangling in Severus’ jumper. “I don’t want you to think I’m here because of the stupid _bond_ \- I might have been at first, but not anymore. I don’t want to die. I try to fight them off with every last bit of strength I can. There are no spells which work against them, none at all. I try not to go to sleep because I don’t want them to get into my mind when I’m most vulnerable. I want to _live_ \- I want to fucking tell you-” Potter stopped, his breathing ragged.

“Then _tell_ me.” Severus met Potter’s eyes and then Potter’s lips connected with his own, the kiss fierce and urgent.

The blissful pleasure which flooded through Severus at the touch almost overwhelmed him. He walked Potter back to the wall and pressed him against it, kissing him back with every ounce of the passion he had suppressed for so long. Potter’s yanked at Severus’ jumper and pushed his hands underneath it to trace over his skin. Severus tugged open Potter’s trousers and pushed his hand inside, to wrap his fingers around Potter’s cock.

Potter was warm, hard and thick in his hand and Severus stroked him firmly, grinding against him. Potter responded with a delicious moan, bucking up towards Severus and gasping into the kiss when Severus twisted his hand just so and rubbed his thumb roughly over the damp tip of Potter’s cock.

Severus’ senses flooded with Potter. The scent of his shampoo and the clean soapy skin filled his nostrils when he buried his face in Potter’s neck and bit down on an exposed piece of skin, sucking until Potter’s gasps became pleas and he pressed shamelessly into Severus’ hand. His ears filled with the sounds Potter made and he moved his hand more quickly, drawing more gasps and moans from Potter. With a shout, Potter pulled Severus into another deep kiss, his body shuddering under Severus’ touch as he spilled over Severus’ hand.

Severus pulled back and met Potter’s eyes just for a moment, his cock aching hard and his lips still tasting of _Harry_. Potter raised his hand to trail his fingers along the curve of Severus’ cheek, the touch almost too pure and painful for Severus to bear.

Potter dropped to his knees and tore at Severus’ trousers. He engulfed Severus’ cock in one slick, hot movement which made Severus cry out – the sound hoarse and strangled. Potter’s mouth worked feverishly over his cock, his tongue flicking the tip and pressing along the underside of Severus’ cock, before he returned to the same blissful sucking motion which forced Severus to place his hands on the wall for fear his legs might give way beneath him.

It had been so long since Severus had experienced anything like this, his body tensed with alarming speed, though he tried to hold off his climax for as long as possible. He didn’t want this moment to end, and tangled his hand in Potter’s hair, pulling him down over his cock and thrusting lightly into his mouth, watching the way Potter’s lips stretched around his girth. The more sadistic part of him enjoyed the way Potter struggled to take his full length and he pressed himself more firmly into Potter’s mouth, feeling Potter relax his throat and swallow around him.

With a groan, the sight and sensations too much for him, Severus came with embarrassing speed. Potter pulled back afterwards and sucked at the tip of Severus’ cock in a way that sent a sharp flash of pain and pleasure through Severus, as his sensitive skin responded to the touch. His knees buckled and he steadied himself against the wall while Potter stood, slowly.

Severus watched Potter tuck his flaccid prick back into his trousers and groaned, catching his breath and buttoning his own trousers. He pushed back from the wall and reached for Potter who looked dazed and uncertain.

“Come.”

“I thought I just-”

“No jokes.” With a low growl, Severus glared at Potter and was rewarded with a wink. The tension broken, Potter stepped into the circle of Severus’ arms and they kissed again, with leisurely curiosity. Severus tasted his own bitter seed in Potter’s mouth and drew him closer still, dropping his hands to Potter’s backside and squeezing roughly.

“I suppose it’s my default reaction.” Potter grinned and Severus swatted him lightly.

“Bed.”

“Together?” Potter’s breathing hitched and his eyes darkened.

Pleased with the response, Severus smirked and kissed Potter again, speaking against his lips.

“ _Yes._ ”

They stripped out of their clothes, and despite the fact his body was covered with scars from his time as a Death Eater, Severus found he was surprisingly comfortable being naked in front of Harry.

Harry traced his fingers over the places where Severus’ skin raised with idle curiosity, and he brushed his lips along the marks left on Severus’ neck. The touches were light and fleeting, and Severus wanted to keep Harry as close as he could as if the gentle kisses might stop at any moment.

“I think I know how we stop them…” Severus closed his eyes and basked in the glorious warmth of Harry’s kisses. “When they change into birds. Spells work when they change into birds.”

“They do?” Harry looked up, his brow furrowed. “How do you know?”

“Because one of them came to me, I believe. Shortly after our meeting with Shacklebolt.” Severus described to Harry the day he had found the small sparrow in his living room.

Harry’s face broke into a wide smile. “Then maybe it’ll be over soon?”

“Perhaps.” Severus nodded and slid his hands down Harry’s back. “Although we will have to wait until they come to you like that again.”

“We could always entertain ourselves while we wait.” Harry laughed and pressed back lightly into Severus’ touch. He rocked against Severus’ thigh, his body warm and his cock already half-hard again. Severus hummed his agreement and rolled Harry onto his back, certain it would take him longer to recover than Harry.

He moved down Harry’s body and murmured a spell to lubricate his fingers. He pushed Harry’s legs open and slid his fingers into Harry’s crease, rubbing them over his hole. He watched Harry’s cock fill slowly under the persistent touch. With a groan, Severus traced his tongue over the outline of the veins on Harry’s cock and worked a finger inside him, relishing the tight heat.

“ _Fuck_ that’s good.” Harry gasped out his words and pressed back towards Severus. He shifted his legs wider and let Severus work a second finger deep inside him, his breathing ragged. Severus leaned back to watch his fingers slide slowly in and out of Harry, before moving over him again. He kissed him fiercely and began to thrust into Harry, enjoying the soft cries his motions elicited. He nipped at Harry’s bottom lip and took in every inch of his face, contorted with pleasure. His eyes lingered on Harry’s parted lips and he crooked his fingers inside Harry, curling them and pulling them back, then pushing in once more.

“Good?” Severus found his own cock harden with surprising readiness at the sight of Harry spread out and eager.

“ _So_ good.” Harry reached for Severus and opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused. “Fuck me?”

With a murmur of approval, Severus slipped his fingers from Harry and urged him over onto his hands and knees. He stroked his cock to lubricate it fully and pressed against Harry. He responded to Harry’s eager pleas with a hard, swift motion. He gripped Harry’s hips tightly when he was fully seated and struggled to catch his breath while Harry cried out his name into the still room.

After his earlier performance, Severus was determined to make this last. He pulled back and watched his cock slide back from Harry’s body and pushed back in again, moving Harry down until his cock found just the right angle and Harry began to buck and writhe beneath him. His fingers left red marks which bloomed on Harry’s backside and he felt the need to _claim_ Harry and to make him his own. With gritty determination, Severus began to press harder into Harry until Harry’s hands clutched at the sheet and his cries became more urgent. When he was urged to go harder, Severus obliged, fucking Harry into the mattress and letting himself go.

He took every pleasure in the way Harry clenched around him and with a rough growl, he pushed Harry’s hand away from his cock. He gripped Harry’s hair and pulled him back into his lap, pressing his lips to Harry’s ear.

“Ride me, Harry – don’t come…not until I say you can.”

“ _Fuck yes_.” With a gasp of pleasure, Harry lifted up and pressed back down over Severus. His motions became quicker and more desperate, and Severus took in every stretch and flex of Harry’s body.

Finally, he came deep inside Harry and he held Harry down until he had ridden out every moment of his pleasure.

Harry dropped back onto the bed, and looked at Severus pleadingly. His lips were plump and red, and he moved his hand down his torso. Severus watched Harry arch under his own touch and gave him a small nod of encouragement. Harry groaned, his cheeks heating under Severus’ stare, and he closed his eyes as he circled his fingers around his cock.

“Look at me, Harry – I want to see you.” Severus moved his fingers back into Harry’s crease and his eyes snapped open. He began to work his hand over his cock and kept his eyes trained on Severus.

Severus ran his fingers along Harry’s slick, wet hole and finally pushed them deep inside him again. The motion caused Harry to come with a shout. His back arched and he groaned when he finally collapsed back onto the mattress, his breathing uneven.

Severus slipped his fingers from Harry and settled next to him, gathering him into his arms for a deep kiss.

For a long time afterwards they rested together in silence, listening to the ticking of the clock and the steady beating of one another’s hearts. Eventually, Harry turned to face Severus, his face hollow in the half-light coming through the cracks in the curtains.

“We’ve been looking at this all wrong.”

“Hm?” Sated and relaxed, Severus trailed his fingers down Harry’s back and gave him a quirk of a smile. “We have been thinking about _what_ all wrong?”

“The bond – the Winged Demons – all of it.”

“In what sense?”

“I can’t believe we didn’t see it.” Harry fumbled for his glasses and grappled with a large book which he called over with a hurried _Accio_. “It knew about the memories. Every detail. It was inside my _mind_ and it knew why I was in the forest.”

“Get to the point.” The same cold feeling that had become more pronounced over the last few days gripped Severus’ heart.

“This was never about creating a bond between me and somebody who wouldn’t help me.” Harry looked up from the book, his expression concerned. “This was about creating a bond between me and somebody who _would_. It’s why it was my mum, that first time. It’s why it was your memories. This connection was never intended to make me vulnerable. I even said myself I don’t have half the power you do, and that’s what they want, isn’t it?”

Severus’ lips tightened into a thin line and he reached for his wand. “It was intended to make _me_ vulnerable.”

“They knew if our hands were forced and we had to spend time together it would come to this.” Harry’s voice shook. “I have to leave. I have to get away from you.” Harry stumbled from the bed and Severus caught his hand, tugging him back and wrapping his arms firmly around him.

“You will do no such thing. I have no intention of letting you go anywhere.”

“What if I turn into one of those things?” Harry shivered and tipped his head back to look at Severus. “What if I try to take you with me? Being with me puts you in danger.”

“Then I will go.” Severus leaned in to Harry and brushed their lips together. “ _Relax_. I have spent many years surrounded by the Darkest of magic. There is very little that worries me and I am quite used to dangerous situations.”

Harry stared at Severus, wild eyed. “I can’t lose you, not after everything. It feels right, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. Sentimental little twit.” Severus tried to keep the low rumble of affection from his tone, but he was quite unable to do so. He lifted his hand to Harry’s hair and played with the thick strands, thinking. “I am quite capable of looking after myself. I had believed you were fond of a challenge from time to time, too.”

“I suppose I am.” Harry closed his eyes and murmured to Severus, his tone rough. “I hear the singing now. All the time. It’s in my head.”

_I was what you are, you will be what I am._

Severus carded his fingers through Harry’s hair and noticed how it had become almost feather-like in its quality, the shine on the strands similar to those on ravens and blackbirds. He shushed Harry and pulled him closer, the feverish heat of Harry’s skin making his own body warm under the touch.

Eventually, Harry’s breathing settled and he burrowed close to Severus, letting out restless cries as his dreams caught hold of him in the one place Severus couldn’t reach. Severus listened to Harry for a while, holding him close while his body burned under the touch. Every stroke of Severus’ hand through Harry’s hair seemed to calm him, and Severus murmured words of affection while Harry slept.

A soft light filled the room, but Harry slept on. Severus looked up from Harry’s sleeping form and saw Lily standing at the foot of the bed, the shadow of long feathers on the wall and the flutter of wings carrying on the light breeze in the room.

“You will not harm him if I go, too?” Severus knew any spell would be futile, and the creature nodded once in response.

“Very well.” Severus stroked Harry’s hair gently when he began to stir and allowed him to settle before speaking again. “This was always the plan.” Severus met the creature’s eyes and noticed they shone, coal black in the soft light. “You wanted us both. You always wanted us both.”

Lily smiled, and the sound of birdsong filled the room.  


-The End-

  



End file.
